


i would do anything (for you)

by essentialflowers



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Cordelia loved Misty so much, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Misty is so cute in this, foxxay - Freeform, misty’s shack, whipped cordelia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 20:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essentialflowers/pseuds/essentialflowers
Summary: Misty’s return from Hell, and the feelings that come with it.
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	i would do anything (for you)

**Author's Note:**

> based on the song graceland too by phoebe bridgers because it fits them so perfectly. 
> 
> i’m in my foxxay feels so i made a playlist on apple music called “i’ve known you for such a short time, but i’ve missed you forever.” add it if you wanna cry with me <3

_ we spent what was left  _

_ of our serotonin  _

_ to chew on our cheeks  _

_ and stare at the moon.  _

“Miss Cordelia?” 

The lamp was shut off long ago, when Cordelia thought she’d be going to sleep. But really, she laid awake thinking of the blonde enigma that is Misty Day. And now, her voice filters through the soft wood of her door and she doesn’t know what to do other than sigh and call out a meager,  _ come in. _

The object of her affections and dreams and nightmares slowly walks into the room, the glow of the moon illuminating her fizzy hair that hangs wildly over her shoulders. 

For a moment, Cordelia can’t tell if she’s already fallen asleep, or if she died and staring at the vision that awaits her in Heaven. 

“Can’t sleep,” Misty whispers. “Too many things in my head.” Her eyes are wide, and her voice is scared, almost like a small child’s. 

But Cordelia knows that this woman is nothing like a child. She’s seen things- things most people have the blessing to _never_ see in their entire lives- and she’s lived. She’s lived far too long on this Earth that doesn’t deserve her without so much as a hand to hold. 

It’s a good thing Cordelia’s palm is open and pliant, willing to grab onto the things she loves most and never let go. 

Misty stares at her- through her- for a few moments, but it feels like days before Cordelia pats the empty space beside her in bed and beckons her over with a crook of a long finger. 

“Come here,” she murmurs. “Sleep beside me.” 

Misty grins softly and clambers over towards the queen-sized bed, into the warmth that waits for her, that escapes through the fibers of the sheets. The warmth that emanates from Cordelia just because Misty is near- Misty’s safe. 

“G’night, Delia,” Misty sighs, before resting her head in the crook of Cordelia’s shoulder. 

As soft snores fill her ear that ring out like the sweetest song she’s ever heard, Cordelia’s finally lulled into sleep.

In her dream, she’s chasing Misty, following her footsteps down into Hell. 

_ Says she knows she lived through it, _

_ to get to this moment.  _

_ Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor  _

_ and I knew then _

“ _She rings like a bell through the night, and wouldn’t you love to love her_? ” 

Cordelia grins to herself as she hears Misty’s soft, crooning voice echo throughout the halls. She relishes in the sound from where she stands in the kitchen, nearly on the verge of tears. 

Misty’s return from Hell left a lot of words unspoken, a lot of songs unsung. Her eyes, which previously held fire and sunlight within them, faded to a dark blue color that doesn’t look quite right on the blonde. 

Now, her eyes encapsulate every storm she had to brave- _alone, alone, alone._

Misty used to sing every waking moment of the day. But lately, it’s rare to hear even a hum from the blonde. 

Misty says she’s fine. And, if Cordelia didn’t know her as well as she does, she’d believe her. But she can hear the faint cries at night, when Misty doesn’t climb into her bed. She can see the remnants of nightmares left on splotchy cheeks. She can feel the tremble of her spine whenever she holds her close. 

“I don’t wanna cause any sorta trouble,” Misty admitted once. They stood beside each other in the greenhouse, planting new seeds and watering old ones. 

Cordelia raised an eyebrow in confusion and gently laid a palm on Misty’s arm. She could feel the defined muscles resting beneath her fingertips; she willed herself not to squeeze harder. 

“Why would you sleeping with me cause any trouble?” 

The delicate question brought a blush to Misty’s cheeks, but it was gone before Cordelia could get a good look at it. 

“You’re the _Supreme_ ,” Misty said, like it was obvious. “You’re the Supreme and I’m just a swamp witch and I don’t belong here wit’cha. You got better things t’do than babysit me.” 

If Misty hadn’t looked so serious and sad, Cordelia would have laughed out loud. How could she explain that the only thing keeping her from having a nervous breakdown is the fact that Misty is beside her? How could she explain that the only reason she’s Supreme is because she wanted to make Misty proud, every single day of her life? 

Even if she wasn’t there to see it.

But Cordelia was never good at words, so she just slid a hand into Misty’s, relishing in the feel of her callouses and rings. She stroked her fingers over the back of her hand, grounding her to the soft soil beneath them. 

She waited for Misty to meet her eyes, and when she finally glanced up, Cordelia gave her brightest, biggest smile. 

“Everything you do makes my life better- not harder,” she said. “I’m so lucky to have even the slightest chance to comfort you. Because you, Misty Day, comfort me all the time. Even without knowing it.” 

Misty grinned shyly and the subject was dropped. But ever since that day, Misty hasn’t knocked on her door once. Not even when her cries of anguish could be heard from rooms away. 

Cordelia’s confused, but more than that, she’s worried. She’s stepping into foreign territory, dealing with problems no one should ever have to imagine. 

Especially Misty. 

But as she hears Misty sing the words to her favorite song, her heart slows to a pitter-patter, gentle like the spring rain that trickles down the windows. 

Misty’s singing, and it stirs something deep within Cordelia’s chest. 

That night, in her dream, she’s still chasing Misty, but she can’t find her in the dark. 

_ I would do anything you want me to _

_ I would do anything for you  _

_ I would do anything,  _

_ I would do anything  _

_ Whatever you want me to do, _

_ I will do  _

The light summer breeze presses against Cordelia’s body as she rests in a beach chair. She watches Misty and Queenie splash in the lake, staring at the blonde with a gaze so fond that she’d be embarrassed if she was staring at anyone else. 

Misty’s bathing suit- a bright yellow one piece- accentuates the curves that Cordelia can’t bring herself to focus on. Instead, she focuses on the way the sunlight streams down into Misty’s smiling face, and the way she laughs freely at something Queenie must have said. 

Then Queenie’s wearing an impish smirk, glancing over to Cordelia, and then Misty’s blushing so prettily that Cordelia almost snaps a picture with her phone. 

“You guys having fun?” she yells, squinting her eyes against the harsh afternoon light. 

Misty nods and rises out of the water, dripping onto the sand. When she makes her way over to Cordelia and grabs the towel that’s offered to her, she’s still blushing. 

“Thanks a ton,” she says, a look on her face Cordelia hasn’t seen before. It’s a mix between gratitude and awe, shining directly down into Cordelia. 

She’s never seen anything so beautiful. She’s never felt so lucky. 

“I knew you’d be freezing.” Cordelia shrugs and looks anywhere but at the sight in front of her, not trusting her body to react in an appropriate manner. 

Misty drops down to her knees and sits beside her, wrapping the towel closer to her shivering body. Cordelia aches to reach out and take the girl into her arms. 

“Miss Cordelia?” Misty asks, her voice meager but alight with hope.

“Yes?” 

“Can I take ya to my swamp? I haven’t been there in ages. Since...” 

Cordelia doesn’t let her finish that awful sentence because she’s too busy nodding, feeling bolts of energy and light course through her veins. 

“Yes, Mist. Of course you can,” she says eagerly. “We can even go tonight, if you want, and come back tomorrow.” 

Misty’s jumping up, kicking sand everywhere, before Cordelia can even breathe. 

“Thank ya! Thank ya so much!” She pulls Cordelia into a tight embrace, leaning down so that her hair tickles the side of Cordelia’s neck. 

Cordelia can’t do anything but sigh, and pull her closer.

***

“Isn’t this the best thing you’ve ever seen?” Misty asks, sighing dreamily. 

They’re laying in the grass, staring up into the millions of stars above their heads. Secretly, Cordelia counts them, and makes a wish on every one she can find. 

“It’s certainly beautiful. Peaceful.” 

Misty just grins wider, turning her body so she can look at Cordelia. From where she lays, Cordelia can count every freckle that litters her face, her neck, her bare shoulders. 

She finds that counting Misty’s freckles beats counting the stars. At least she can touch them, savor them, cherish them. 

“Are you glad to be back?” Cordelia asks, her voice bare and quiet. 

Misty nods quickly. “Feels like comin’ home.” She smiles but then frowns, her worry lines digging deep into her forehead. 

Cordelia traces them with a gentle finger, not bothering to catch herself because the only thing to bear witness is the moon. 

“What’s the matter?” 

Misty shrugs and turns her head to look up at the stars again. 

“I’m just thinkin’, I guess. I did a whole lot of it down there, ‘cause that was all I could do. But, I was alone. An’ now I’m not. An’ now I don’t know who I am.” 

Cordelia feels a pain, loud and sudden, in her rib cage. She brings a hand there to ease the uncomfortable feeling, but it won’t fade. So she braces herself for Misty’s words of hurt, of the darkness she can’t see, hanging in the space between them like a noose. 

“I’ve always lived alone,” Misty says, sighing sadly. “An’ then I met you. But then ya got ripped away from me ‘cause I wasn’t good enough.” 

Cordelia’s eyes mist over with petulant, bitter tears. But as she gazed into Misty’s, she finds that she isn’t crying. She’s just staring at her so deeply, like she’s trying to reach into her chest and pull out everything Cordelia’s too scared to utter aloud. 

The moment between them grows, gets bigger with every shallow breath they take.

“Before I left, I wanted to kiss ya. I had a plan an’ everything.” Misty smiles wistfully; Cordelia stops breathing all together. “I had a plan, an’ then it got ruined. Now all I wanna do is touch ya and kiss ya like I mean it but I know I’m not worthy of the Supreme.” 

Misty runs a frustrated hand through her tangled hair but Cordelia grabs it. She grabs it and she squeezes it so tightly, that all Misty can do is turn her head and close her eyes. 

“‘M sorry I wasn’t good enough to love ya,” she whispers. “You deserve so much more than me, Miss Cordelia.” 

Laying there, beneath a blanket of stars that go on for miles and miles, Cordelia wishes she were braver. She wishes she had the energy to reach out and take the flickers of light and give them _all_ to Misty. But she can’t, so she settles on counting them. 

“I’ve counted three hundred and sixty-seven stars,” she says, making Misty jolt from her rest and open her eyes. “There’s more- obviously, there’s more. I don’t have the capacity to count them all. But if you asked me to, I would. I would sit here for weeks upon weeks to count all the stars I see because they’re all reflected in you.” 

Misty lets out a choked cry, but Cordelia keeps going. 

“When I look at those stars, I see your smile,” she says. “When I plant our daisies, I hear your laugh. When I fall asleep without you, I can’t help but think,  _ is she safe? _ Even when you were gone, I still lived as if you were beside me because that was all I could do without going absolutely crazy.” 

Misty’s eyes are wide, like they were the first night she climbed into Cordelia’s bed. But this time, they aren’t scared; they’re glistening with happiness. 

Cordelia brings a palm to the side of Misty’s face, tracing over her cheeks and wiping away the tears that trickle down them. She smiles and can’t help but kiss each one, pressing her lips against the smoothest skin she could imagine. 

“You’re _more_ than good enough for me, Misty,” she whispers, breathing the soft words into her ear. “I’ve loved you for as long as I missed you- forever.” 

Misty gargles out a laugh and sinks into the Supreme’s embrace, spilling hot tears onto her neck. Cordelia holds her there as she cries, sliding her fingers down her back and back up, using her touch as a healing balm. 

When Misty’s head emerges from beneath Cordelia’s chin, she’s grinning. 

“That’s everything I’ve ever wanted to hear, Delia.  _ You’re _ everything.” 

With that, Misty leans in and presses her lips against Cordelia’s. It’s not a long kiss, but it’s enough to make Cordelia’s head spin and her heart beat impossibly faster. 

Misty’s swamp may be home for her, but for Cordelia,  this is her home. Pressing her body against Misty’s, breathing in their shared air, tangling her hands in untamable hair. 

This is what she’s been searching for her whole life. 

That night, Cordelia dreams of Misty, of their joined hands, leading each other towards the light. 

_ Whatever she wants,  _

_ whatever she wants.  _


End file.
